Hardshellz

by Morris Kenyon

CHAPTER 3. BIDDING AT AUCTION.

  Shaking my head at what I'd nearly revealed, I wondered whether I should tell him what I was really after, but decided it would do no harm. Çrámerr was rich but nowhere near Sava's league. "Lot fifteen," I said. Çrámerr checked the catalogue and whistled. "You're dealing with the big boys now, Vargo."

  "You?" I asked.

  "Here to ideate and burn off some superfluity of excess fat. Lot 34 is the best of breed in its field and would look good shelved in my moon-pod."

  I'd forgotten the original Çrámerr had often spoken in business-speak gibberish and that trait had been passed onto his clone. Did him no harm though – Çrámerr actually owned a moon somewhere out there in the galaxy. Soon after, the chatter and data sharing died down as the auctioneer and her assistants entered and stepped behind the podium on the dais. She had short, purple-coloured hair and wore a smart bottle-green business suit that showcased her figure. When she had everyone's attention, she outlined the rules. Nothing unusual.

  Briskly, not wanting to waste time, she started the auction. All the items were fine art in a variety of mediums. The first lot was a metre high pair of ancient Chiennoise vases in a traditional red glaze. I know that from downloading the catalogue. The bidding was quick until only two competitors were left. Finally, the vases were knocked down for well over the guide price.

  The second lot was a Davvid Mersey sculpture made, like my knife blade, from a single diamond mined from 55 Cancri e. Unlike my blade, which was strictly functional although I liked the way it caught the light, this was an exquisite statue of two lovers embracing. The only downside was that the lovers had hideous octopoid heads, outstretched wings and appeared to be eating each other's faces. Literally. It was at once an image of great beauty and hideousness at the same time. Although I could appreciate the craftsmanship in it, I wondered who would buy it. I wouldn't have it in my home.

  Again, the bidding sharply escalated until it was between a museum and a private collector. Who won? Who do you think? How can a publicly funded museum outbid some plutocrat with money burning a hole in his pocket?

  The third and fourth lots went quickly. At this rate, Sava's twenty million would go nowhere. I thought about getting refreshments but decided against it. I didn't want to risk missing lot fifteen. However, a man on the other side of Çrámerr who had been outbid on lot four sighed and got up. Obviously, that was the only piece that took his fancy.

  I got a surprise when Julianna slid into his seat. She flicked back her hair and smiled at me – a smile that would make any man go weak at the knees. She wore a sleeveless pale green dress that was modest yet managed to make her look oh, so sexy at the same time.

  "Hey, fancy parking yourself in my ball-park and touching base?" Çrámerr asked her. His broadcasts changed to show him shaking hands with Economou's President following his recent promotion and the hectare sized office he now inhabited. Images of his family vanished from view.

  "Did you bring your wife with you or is she out the way on your moon-base?" I said. Çrámerr narrowed his eyes at me.

  "Thought I'd see how you were getting on, Vic," she breathed.

  "Haven't got to fifteen yet," I replied, "but thanks for coming." Hi-man or gynoid who cares? When a beautiful woman shows an interest in you, us men sit up and take notice. Doesn't matter who you are or what the circumstances are.

  "He's playing with the big boys, now," Çrámerr said. "He'll need some serious firepower if he's gonna compete today. It's a lion eat dog arena."

  "I have some big guns behind me," I told him.

  "I'm sure you have a big gun," Julianna said. "A very big gun."

  Gulp. What was she trying to do? Distract me? Or was she some sort of test? Or maybe Sava intended her to be part of my reward later? Who knows with these oligarchs? They're a strange bunch – a law unto themselves.

  "I think I'm the unnecessary document filler here," Çrámerr said, swapping seats with Julianna. He may be irritating but Çrámerr wasn't all bad. Julianna rested her hand on my thigh and kneaded my muscle. Gulp again.

  "You're all stiff," she whispered. That was so very true. And not just my quadriceps.

  I tried to put her out of my mind and concentrate as lots thirteen and fourteen came and went – both for way over the guide price. Personally, I wouldn't give them house room. Overrated tat. Then it was my turn. I sat up ready for anything. Even so, I was taken aback.

  The auctioneer's robot assistants brought out the shell and placed it on a pedestal before levitating it so it could be seen by the whole room. What! Was this the piece of junk Sava wanted? In form it was a large sept-valve – a huge shell over a metre and a half in diameter which opened up in seven ways. In life it would have held the slimy sea-creature safe inside but now its hard shell was dried out and open to view. Checking the catalogue, there were a number of ways it was so special. Firstly – its sheer size. Very few Kisisium hennessyanum, to give it its formal name reach that size. Also, it was unmarked by battle scars or marred by parasites or even just knocks or scrapes picked up over the course of its long life.

  All the same, it was a big disappointment and didn't look anything like the guidebook's glowing picture. It was mostly a drab, dull khaki with dun streaks swirling over its surface. Here and there a smear of ochre. Despite its size, I wouldn't pay millions of Hydrans for it. There was muttering from the hall as it rotated in front of us.

  Then the auctioneer dimmed the lights and switched on ultraviolet lamps. Instantly, the dull shell changed from being a nondescript, boring item into an object of extreme beauty. The khakis transformed into iridescent, swirling aquamarines with flashes of brilliant electric blue. Purple spots glimmered before being subsumed into the overall fantastic scheme. I heard a gasp of awe and realised the sound came from me. It was simply beautiful – one of the most spectacular things I'd ever seen in my travels around Orion's Arm.

  Julianna leaned forward and her hand gripped my thigh even tighter. She had to be hi-man – unless they had programmed a true appreciation of beauty into gynoids now. While she was absorbed, I glanced at her face, trying to see anything that didn't ring true.

  My surreptitious study was interrupted when the auctioneer banged her gavel bringing everyone's attention back. She switched off the ultraviolets and the shell became dull and boring again.

  "An exceptional specimen of a Kississ shell. The guide is ten million Hydrans and I'm not going below that. I'm here to sell – who'll give me ten million?" her amplified voice carried over the crowd.

  There was a pause. This was one of the high spots of today's auction. Then a voice at the back called out, "Ten mill."

  That broke the dam. Immediately, there was a flood of bids.

  "Eleven."

  "Twelve."

  "Thirteen."

  "Fourteen."

  And all this before I had chance to even open my mouth. Julianna leaned over to me, affording me a glimpse down her front. I averted my eyes but not soon enough. Was any natural woman so beautiful? Possibly – an oligarch like Sava could afford the very best in the galaxy. On the other hand...

  "Fifteen," I called above the crowd.

  "A fresh spot," the auctioneer said, acknowledging my bid.

  I didn't have time to check out the other bidders' broadcasts before the bidding ramped up to twenty million Hydrans. That's serious money.

  "Twenty-one," I called out, just as a servo-bot hovered at my elbow with a selection of fine liqueurs. I took a Venusian Vermouth and sipped it.

  "Twenty-two," another woman called out. She wore a severely tailored black business suit and short, but immaculately coiffured hair. I guess, like me, she was bidding on behalf of someone with more money than the gross domestic product of some planets.

  One of the other bidders had dropped out at the twenty million mark. He must be working for a mere billionaire and not a gazillionaire like Sava. Should have got a gig with a real big hitter, I thought. All the same, I asked Julianna to send an inst
aflash to Sava asking for authorisation to go up to fifty. Instantly, he confirmed that.

  Reassured, the bidding shot up to thirty million. Another bidder, a big Calobar guy waved his hand and shook his head. He was out so he settled back to see who would triumph. After thirty-four million, the contest was between me and the woman. Or more accurately, between the bank accounts of the plutocrats we both worked for.

  "Thirty-six," I said.

  Immediately, she came back with thirty-seven. I've been around the galaxy and know a few tricks. I wondered if I could blow her out the water by seeming like I had bottomless pockets.

  "Forty," I said, jumping the bid, trying to look like forty million meant nothing to me. The auctioneer permitted herself a little smile. More commission for the sales room.

  The woman I was bidding against smiled and nodded to me. "Forty five," she said. There were a few gasps from the room. People who thought small, not that there were many like that here. Now I was in a dilemma. Raise by five again and see if that worked a second time. Or just slug it out million by million and see if Sava's pockets were deeper than her employer's?

  Glancing over at Julianna I got her to send another discreet instaflash. Basically get onto her boyfriend (or owner if she was a gynoid, but I left that out) and see if he'd go over fifty million Hydrans. She nodded her head a fraction and then got in touch with Sava.

  "Forty-six," I came back, with more confidence than I felt.

  "Forty-seven," the woman said. I felt a flicker of confidence as I think, by the look of concentration on her face, she was sending off an instaflash, too.

  I paused to give Sava time to respond until the auctioneer looked meaningfully at me. "Forty-eight."

  "Forty-nine," my opponent came back with.

  Nothing for it. I raised my eyebrows but Julianna shook her head, her golden hair catching the light. Sava hadn't got back yet. I played my final shot. "Fifty."

  My opponent frowned, obviously she was communing with her superiors. The auctioneer paused a moment to give her time to receive instructions. Nothing. The auctioneer raised her gavel and pointed in my direction.

  "The bid is with the gentleman in the middle. Fifty million Hydrans. For the first time of asking..."

  I tried to suppress a grin. We'd won. Well, Sava's nearly bottomless wealth had won. I was merely the instrument of his success.

  "Fifty-one million," the woman called out, her voice clear across the room. Cancel those celebrations.

  Leaning over towards Julianna, I hissed, "Has Sava got back yet? Tell him to hurry or he'll lose this."

  Julianna fired off yet another urgent instaflash.

  "I'll have to hurry you," the auctioneer said.

  Still nothing.

  "The bid is with the lady against the far wall. For the first time of asking..."

  "You're gonna flame out," Çrámerr said. "You're boss came under-prepared."

  Now Julianna leaned towards me. "He really doesn't want to lose this, Vic," she whispered. "He must be held up, unless the Galactoweb connection's temporarily down."

  "Well, what do you want me to do?" I asked.

  "Balls to the wall time," Çrámerr said with a little smile. It was easy for him – he wasn't sitting here out of funds.

  "For the second time of asking..."

  Now I was down to the last couple of seconds. At the third call, she'd bang the gavel and that would be that. The plutocrat the woman was representing would have won and Sava wouldn't be taking the shell home. That would be a huge blow to his reputation and status.

  "He really wants this," Julianna said in a hurried whisper.

  I caught sight of Çrámerr's smirk before, looking up, I saw the auctioneer raise her gavel. This is what I got paid for – to take some difficult decisions.

  Go for it. "Fifty-two," I called out. I desperately hoped Sava would get back to Julianna by return otherwise I'd be in big trouble for bidding without sufficient funds.

  "Fifty-three," the woman said. I was starting to get fed up with her voice.

  "Fifty-four." Lowering my voice, I muttered, "Has he got back yet?" A slight shake of Julianna's head. However, my heart lifted as there was a pause until my opponent offered up fifty-five.

  "Think she's pushing her ceiling," Çrámerr said.

  Relief flooded through me when Julianna told me, "He's authorised up to seventy." Now I was okay. Nobody would find out I'd been bidding beyond my limit.

  "Fifty-six." Firm and confident now I knew I had plenty of money backing me up.

  Between us, the price rocketed up to sixty-five million. The rest of the room was in total silence as the price was ridiculous now – even for such a unique, beautiful piece of art. It would look great in any plutocrat's super-palace but sixty-five million for this? Yet at the end of the day, it was nothing to me. If Sava wanted to blow multi-millions, it was nothing to do with me.

  "Sixty-six," I said. I was about to ask Julianna to see if Sava wanted to authorise even more funds.

  There was a shake of the woman's head.

  "Are you sure?" the auctioneer said. The woman waved her hand in a downcast, negative way.

  Casting her gaze around the room, the auctioneer said, "Are you all done?" Knowing my luck, I expected some other bidder to raise his hand and carry on where the woman had left off. There was a pause – a pregnant pause I believe it's called – until the auctioneer started her final spiel.

  "For the first time of asking..."

  "For the second time of asking..."

  C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, I muttered under my breath. Bang your gavel and put me out of my misery.

  "For the third time of asking..."

  Hurry up...

  BANG!